


Cherries

by Miss_Vile



Series: The Summer of Smut [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Out, Drinking, First Time, Gay Rights, Love Confessions, M/M, Rimming, This fic is mostly shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: Before the Mayor could process what he'd just witnessed, his friend was already barreling towards the dance floor. He watched the man from afar before turning his gaze back down to the small cherry stem on his napkin. He felt like he was coming down with a fever.“May I get you another drink, Mr. Mayor?” the waitress asked.“Yes, do you have anything stronger than this wine?” he asked, “...And could my friend get another Midori Sour. Extra cherries?”
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: The Summer of Smut [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787152
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101





	Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for the Summer of Smut event over on the Nygmobblepot Haven Discord! The theme I got was "Trapped Together" but I sprinkled in a little bit of "drunk together" and "limo sex" because I neeeeded it.
> 
> This is actually 1 of 4 I have for this event... I went a little overboard. Sorry not sorry. I'll be posting the rest of them between now and July 14th!

Oswald couldn't take his eyes off of him.

His Chief of Staff cleared their schedules for the day-- limiting his morning to breakfast at the mansion and the signing of a few papers-- which made it unbearably easy to get lost in how Ed's features shined in the morning light. It was offensive how attractive the man was.

“Oswald?” Edward interrupted his daydream, “Did you hear me?”

“No,” Oswald made a show out of his stretch and yawn, “My apologies. It's been far too long since we've had a leisurely morning like this.”

He risked a glance over to his Chief of Staff. Both of them were still in their dressing gowns-- Oswald in his gold brocade and Ed in a lush emerald. Ed seldomly got the opportunity to cook them breakfast nowadays. He'd requested that Olga not return until the afternoon so they could enjoy their morning with just the two of them. So, he'd prepared Croque Madame-- with extra mustard, just how Oswald liked it-- with a side of fresh fruit.

Oswald felt his face flush. Edward had been staring at him just as intensely-- smiling openly.

“You certainly look relaxed.”

Oswald opened his mouth to speak but found himself uncertain as what to say. The way Edward's lip curled, the way the velvet fabric draped off his shoulder to reveal the white tank top underneath, and the smokey tone of his voice made Oswald feel nervous. It almost seemed deliberate. Almost like the man was _flirting._

He swallowed. Edward cleared his throat.

“I was saying that your suit should arrive from the cleaners in an hour. That should give me enough time to look over it and make sure we don't need to make any last-minute arrangements.”

“Oh, thank you for that.”

“Not a problem. Oh, and I hope you don't mind that I chose your purple one. I thought you could pair it with the tie you got recently.”

“That will make _quite_ the statement at the gala,” he smirked, “And the flowers?”

“I've instructed someone to pick them up later this afternoon. We tipped the florist well enough that they should be done on time even with such short notice.”

“Excellent,” he dabbed away some crème fraîche from the corner of his mouth, “And do we have anything else on our agenda?”

Ed stopped for a moment and stared. Oswald shifted in his chair under the scrutiny. Edward seemed to be calculating... something. Oswald wasn't certain what. Edward looked down at where he was twisting the napkin in his lap.

“Nothing official. I thought we could just enjoy each other's company today,” he looked everywhere except directly at Oswald, “Unless you'd rather have a productive day? I'm sure I could make a few calls--”

“--Nonsense, Edward. I was needing a break,” he waved his hand, “A day with my most valued friend is a day well spent.”

“Agreed,” Edward smiled.

Oswald tried not to swoon.

* * *

Edward had a keen eye for artistry. At first, Oswald thought that the purple suit was much too loud. However, with Oswald's complexion and the addition of a few key accessories, it was just the right amount of extravagance.

Ed gifted him a tie with intricately woven black silk with Swarovski crystals. It sparkled like ice in the light. The designer tie was exceedingly expensive for a single accessory, but one Ed felt was an entirely necessary addition to the Kingpin's wardrobe.

The purple contrasted beautifully with Edward's own attire. He'd commissioned a suit entirely in a lustrous green and paired it with a snakeskin leather tie that shimmered an iridescent purple and verdigris.

They were certainly _not_ going to blend in with any crowds. Everything was custom made by local artisans-- A detail that Oswald had been _very_ specific about for the sake of his image. That and he was guaranteed discounts as the Mayor if he shopped locally. Why pay full-price for luxuries?

"And the pièce de résistance,” Edward announced as he pinned the boutonniere to Oswald's lapel.

Oswald blinked as he examined the flowers. They'd been informed about the gala's floral theme at the last minute and Ed, in an attempt to manage the Mayor's stress, offered to take care of it. As usual, he'd outdone himself.

The boutonniere consisted of a fragrant sprig of eucalyptus, lush purple nightshade... and a green carnation.

“Did you choose green because it was your favorite color, or...?”

“Do you not like it?” Ed's hand hovered over the flower.

Oswald recognized the tell-tale signs of anxiety in his friend. He placed a hand on Ed's shoulder.

“I just wasn't expecting your choice of flower,” he reassured him.

“Should I have gotten lilies?” Ed's voice still sounded tight.

“ _Ed,”_ Oswald's hand slid up towards the man's face, “These are perfect. I love them.”

His imagination ran away from him because he could have sworn that Edward leaned into the touch before straightening his suit jacket.

“Excellent. Will you?” he asked, handing Oswald the boutonniere.

“Of course,” he cleared his throat before pinning the flower to his friend's lapel.

The pin, like everything else Edward had prepared for them for their evening at the gala, was an exquisite piece of jewelry. Gold plated with matching freshwater pearls and Alexandrite. Oswald smiled at the gemstone Edward chose for them. The beautiful mix of their signature colors was not lost on him. He absentmindedly ran his hand over Ed's suit to remove any imaginary wrinkles. He gasped when Edward grabbed his wrist.

“Ed?” he exhaled, staring at where they were connected.

Edward said nothing. The pad of his thumb grazed the underside of Oswald's wrist-- as if checking his pulse. His eyes flickered upwards towards Ed's as they swayed into one another's orbit.

“The limo is outside,” Edward cleared his throat and offered his arm, “Shall we go?”

* * *

The gala was opulent-- to put it lightly. Not nearly as exclusive as the Founder's Dinner, but exclusive enough that it was worth reporting that the Mayor and his Chief of Staff would be attending.

“Are you ready to greet the cameras, Mr. Mayor?”

Oswald gestured to the car door in response but frowned when Edward was unable to open it right away.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Edward slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, “We should have someone check the locks. No time for that right now, though.”

“Yes. Let us enjoy ourselves this evening.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Edward's grin darkened, licking his lips.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Oswald retracted, paranoia setting in.

“You'll see,” Ed smiled, but then noticed how hesitant his friend was. He placed his hand on the man's knee, “You can trust me, Oswald.”

His instincts warned him to flinch at that, but he wanted so desperately to believe Ed. He'd proven time and time again that he could be trusted-- everything from taking care of his injuries to tricking Butch to disposing of that crazed librarian. Oswald had even grown to love the man, but he was too cowardly to admit it. Too afraid to ruin his empire and soil the one good friendship he'd ever had. However, the way Edward kept looking at him made him wonder...

They entered the gala under a cloak of flashing lights. This was unlike any of the political events they'd attended or the private venues with Gotham's elite. The annual gala at the Gotham Museum of Art was for the cameras. Celebrities, both local and abroad, were there promoting the latest fashion trends and making artistic statements.

Oswald had managed to stay attached to Edward's arm most of the way through the floral archway, but was unfortunately pulled away by a reporter who wanted to know more about the designer of his suit. He maintained the same smile he'd practiced so often while regurgitating the names of his favorite local artisans. He even made sure to namedrop the florist Edward had used for their boutonnieres.

One of the reporters, a young woman with dark hair, smiled as she looked at the flower on his lapel, “Mr. Mayor, could you answer a few questions for Gotham's Gossip column?”

“Certainly,” Oswald gave her a fake smile.

“It is no secret that you and Mr. Nygma are incredibly close, but some of us are dying to know just _how_ close. Could you possibly shed some light on that?”

“I don't know what you mean,” Oswald lied. He'd already read the rumors.

“There's no need to be shy, Mayor Cobblepot. This is Gotham, after all.”

Oswald grit it teeth. The fact that this was Gotham was precisely _why_ he couldn't risk everyone knowing just how important Edward Nygma was to him.

“Edward Nygma is my dearest friend and that is all I will say on the matter.”

“Should we expect a happy announcement this evening?” another reporter asked nearby. Oswald looked toward the source of the question and saw that Edward had been the one asked. He held his breath.

“An enigma to most, a mystery for a privileged few. I can be more valuable than gold but once I am shared I am worthless. What am I?”

_A secret,_ Oswald thought. It was hardly a difficult riddle. He rolled his eyes as the reporter's face fell in his attempt to answer it.

Though, that did raise the question of _what secret._

* * *

Of the two of them, Edward was the partier. Which was surprising given his more anti-social demeanor. All it took was a little bit of alcohol and Edward was dragging Zsasz onto the dance floor. Edward _had_ tried to ask Oswald but was met with a warning glance and a playful threat of busted kneecaps. His Chief of Staff had been disappointed but understood that Oswald wasn't willing to embarrass himself in front of Gotham's wealthy. In full view of cameras, no less. Luckily, Edward had enough enthusiasm for the both of them.

The night dragged on and thankfully most of the cameras and reporters had retired for the evening-- having already gotten their shots and reports for the papers the following morning. Oswald had indulged them before isolating himself at one of the private tables reserved for him, Ed, and his favorite bodyguard.

Edward glided over to the table-- his eyes sparkling like sharp, volcanic glass. Oswald swallowed.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” Edward leaned in closer... much too close for mixed company.

“I ordered you another Midori Sour,” he pushed the glass full of bright green liquid between them.

“Merci beaucoup!” Ed smiled.

Oswald smiled in return as he watched the man consume the sugary drink far too quickly. Edward let out a satisfied sigh as he set the empty glass on the table. The overly sweet, melony liqueur lingered on his breath. The Mayor watched in rapt fascination as the brunette made a show out of placing the cherry on his tongue and curling his lips around the small red fruit.

Ed's brow furrowed in concentration as his tongue danced around behind his teeth. Once he'd accomplished his goal, he locked eyes with his friend and grinned devilishly.

“What?” Oswald asked, curious.

Edward chuckled before pulling the cherry stem-- now tied in a knot-- and placing it on the napkin in front of Oswald.

Before the Mayor could process what he'd just witnessed, his friend was already barreling towards the dance floor. He watched the man from afar before turning his gaze back down to the small cherry stem on his napkin. He felt like he was coming down with a fever.

“May I get you another drink, Mr. Mayor?” the waitress asked.

“Yes, do you have anything stronger than this wine?” he asked, “...And could my friend get another Midori Sour. Extra cherries?”

* * *

Oswald lost tracks of how many drinks they'd had.

The bottle of whiskey he'd been gifted at his table was stronger than he was expecting. Perhaps guzzling down half the bottle so soon after all of the wine he'd had that evening was a mistake.

Edward was far too drunk to continue dancing so he'd returned to their table. Boldly, he threw his arm around the Mayor-- his excuse being that he was simply attempting to remain upright.

Oswald laughed as Edward attempted to bring his glass to his lips. He's too foggy-headed to realize he needed to move the glass to his other hand and instead keeps pulling his friend closer to him.

“Help me,” Edward giggled, his drink dangling precariously over Oswald's expensive suit.

“You're a mess,” He smiled and held Edward's glass steady while guiding it to his lips.

Edward finished his drink, but not before spilling some of the sweet liqueur down his chin. Oswald, unthinking, licked the syrup away.

His tongue glided over the smooth, salty-sweet skin of his friend. It was more intoxicating than the alcohol. He shuddered as he attempted to pull away, but felt his mouth suddenly become hot.

Edward's tongue danced around his own. His fingers glided through the man's curly hair as he became lost to the waves crashing over him-- the taste of him. The scent. The sparks flashing behind his eyes...

Oswald snapped back to reality and hastily pushed his best friend away. Edward's head lulled to one side as he muttered in his drunkenness. He tried snapping his fingers but couldn't produce a satisfying sound. He snapped several times to no avail. He licked his fingers but was interrupted before he could attempt again.

“You called, Boss?” Victor Zsasz wore a knowing smirk as he looked between the two men and their drunken states.

“Take us home.”

“Together or separate?” he raised a hairless brow.

“Whichever is quickest.”

Zsasz looked over toward Edward who bobbed his head. There was some sort of silent communication that Oswald couldn't quite discern but, before he could fully process it, Zsasz moved forward.

“Righto,” he said as he lifted Edward over his shoulder.

Oswald gasped and then looked around at the crowd. He was grateful that most of the guests had either left or were too distracted by their own revelry to notice the show their beloved Mayor and his Chief of Staff had unwittingly performed for them.

The ride home seemed to take far longer than it should have. Zsasz had actually offered to drive their limo back to the Mayor's mansion. He told Oswald that, given their current state, it was the safest option. Oswald could see the logic and so hadn't argued.

They pulled up toward their home, but no one came to open their door for them. Zsasz wasn't really the type to open doors so Oswald simply rolled his eyes and reached for the door.

“Let's get you inside,” Oswald pulled on the handle.

He pulled again.

“Um...” he slammed his shoulder against the door but it still wouldn't budge. He sighed, “Ed, check your side.”

“Hm?” Edward looked up at him and palmed his eyes, “Right. Sure. Let me just...”

He jiggled the handle but his door seemed to be locked as well.

“Ugh. _Move,”_ he reached over Edward to jiggle the handle himself, to no avail.

He growled and looked out the tinted window. He growled even louder as he saw Victor Zsasz walk through the front door of the mansion and leave them behind.

“That slimy little-- ARGH!” he yelled as he banged on the door. He pulled out his phone, but the screen was dark, “Ed, my phone is dead. Let's use yours.”

“Can't.”

“What?”

“I left it at the museum...”

“You... left your phone... AT THE MUSEUM?!” he screeched.

“Ow,” he held his ears, “Why are you screaming?”

“Because we are _stuck_ inside the back of this _fucking limo!”_

“I don't see what the problem is,” Edward chuckled.

“You're hopeless,” He threw himself back against the leather with a pout.

“Perhaps...” Edward whispered as his finger trailed up Oswald's arm.

The Mayor shivered and looked down at where his friend's hands were trailing across the fabric of his suit jacket. He crossed his arms.

“Are we not going to talk about it?” Ed asked, his eyes suddenly full of hurt.

“Talk about what?” he turned his gaze away.

“The kiss we shared?”

Oswald turned to look at him now. He tried to keep his expression impartial since he wasn't sure how else to react. Edward recoiled.

“I've... I've overstepped,” he pulled himself upright, choking on his words, “I'm _so_ sorry. I'll just go--”

“--Wait, Ed. Hold on,” Oswald uncurled his arms, “You haven't overstepped. I just... I don't know how to deal with these sorts of things.”

“I don't either,” he chuckled, leaning in for another kiss, “All I know for sure is that I want this.”

Their kiss was much softer than the impromptu one they shared at the gala. Ed's lips were soft and plush against his own. Oswald could still taste the melon and sugar, but the aftertaste was all Edward.

“Edward, this is wrong,” he pulled away, placing a hand on his friend's chest.

“All my life I've been told that love like this was wrong. And I know now that it couldn't be farther from the truth.”

“That's not what I meant,” Oswald rolled his eyes.

“Then what did you mean?”

“ _You're drunk!”_

“Oh... I suppose that would present a problem, wouldn't it?” he smirked, “How 'bout this: I assure you that I am of sober enough mind to want this. Once I accomplish that, you accept that this is okay.”

“You'll still be drunk, Ed.”

“So are you?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes... well...” he sighed, “Fine. How do you prove it to me?”

Edward cleared his throat, “I can fill a room or just one heart. Others may have me but I can not be shared. What am I?”

“A riddle? Seriously?” he rolled his eyes, “Uh... Loneliness?”

“Correct,” Ed's eyes sparkled, “I can be a member of a group, but I can never blend in. What am I?”

“An individual,” he smiled as he placed his hand on Edward's cheek. This time he knew that Edward leaning into his touch wasn't just his imagination.

“Yes,” Edward pressed himself forward and planted kisses along Oswald's throat. He hummed in contentment when Oswald didn't push him away, “I feel your every move, I know your every thought. I'm with you from birth and I'll see you when you rot. What am I?”

“A reflection?”

“Yes,” a tear rolled down Ed's cheek, “I would be lost without you too. When you're not around it's like... a piece of me is broken. I know that's stupid and sentimental but I can't think of any other way of describing it. I love you, Oswald.”

Oswald gasped and searched his friend's face for some sign that this was all some elaborate prank.

“If you don't return my affections, I understand,” Ed looked sad, “You've been drinking too, so we can just pretend that--”

His words were cut off by Oswald's mouth firmly pressed against his own.

They undressed one another like they were on a time limit. Their expensive suits were tossed to the floorboard of the limo, completely forgotten in favor of relishing their exposed skin.

Edward had come prepared, of course. It didn't take Oswald long to process what Edward had planned for the two of them as he swirled his tongue around Oswald's cock and lubricated his own backside. The Penguin was all too eager to reciprocate.

“Ah!” Edward cried as he positioned himself in Oswald's lap. His blunted fingernails dug into Oswald's shoulders.

“Does this hurt?” Oswald desperately wanted to buck his hips forward but Edward's comfort came before his own carnal pleasure.

“Very... But I'll get used to it,” he winced, “I've just never done it before.”

“Eddie!” Oswald kissed his temple, “Then we should've gone slower.”

He rested his head on Oswald's shoulder, “Just let me get used to it.”

Oswald ran his hands up Edward's back and listened to his breathing. It showed no signs of steadying, “Are you alright?”

“My head is swimming,” Ed murmured.

“Should we stop?”

“No!” Edward's head bolts up, “I-I want this. Please, don't stop.”

“Edward, I can assure you that we can continue this after the two of us have gotten some rest.”

“But I _need_ you. Right now,” he bounced on Oswald's cock and gasped, “I'll go insane if I can't satisfy this right this moment.”

“Shh...” Oswald groped his hand up Edward's flushed chest and to his face, “Let me try and ease the discomfort then.”

“Alright.”

“Close your eyes for me,” he smiled when Edward complied, “I know this is going to be hard for you, but try not to think.”

Edward chuckled at that.

Oswald's movements started out small-- a rythmic push and pull as he massaged the tender muscles of Edward's thighs and ass. Once Edward seemed to relax into the motion, Oswald wrapped his fingers around the man's cock. He gasped at the sudden touch, but Oswald reassured him with a hum.

He stroked him in time with his slow thrusts. Tenderly, he rubbed the head with the pad of his thumb-- adding pressure at the bundle of nerves he'd discovered in his exploration. He felt Edward tremble beneath his touch and threw his head back against the leather seat when the man above him took it upon himself to set a new pace.

Oswald watched as the man's muscles rippled with each bounce. The sweat on his brow made his hair curl in such a delightful way that Oswald made a mental note to suggest to Ed that he stop using so much product.

“This feels better than I imagined,” Ed smiled.

“And I take it you've imagined it quite a lot?”

“Ah- Mmm _yes,_ ” he gasped, “I've thought about you for so long...”

“And you only thought to tell me just now?”

“I- ah! I... I wanted to get everything perfect,” he threw his head back, “I didn't want to screw this up.”

Oswald used the momentum of Edward's leaning back to change the angle slightly, allowing him a little more control over the thrusts. They fell apart into a mess of thrusts and screams. The obscene sound of clapping skin and feral grunting egged them on further.

“Os... I'm... I'm gonna...” he panted.

He took that as incentive to wrap his hands around Edward's cock once more and pump him vigorously. Edward came with a scream and Oswald savored the sound.

Edward's entire body shook as he rode out the waves of his pleasure. Oswald was far from done, but his lover was too sensitive and likely too sore to continue as they were. He carefully helped lift Edward off of him and positioned him in the seat next to him.

When his brain came back on, Edward made his way to the floorboard so he could position himself between Oswald's legs. He lifted his friend's good leg up over his shoulder and ran his tongue across Oswald's perineum. The same skilled tongue that tied that cherry stem into a knot earlier was now working its way in and out of Oswald's hole—making the Mayor gasp and scream his name.

Oswald came with a cry. Edward crawled back into the seat and wrapped his arms around his lover. He took one of the clean handtowels from the bar nook and began cleaning the two of them off.

“You asked me earlier today about the flowers... why I chose green carnations?” he fiddled with a button on his shirt as they attempted to make themselves descent again, “I chose them for what they represented. I knew you would understand what they meant.”

“Sooo... what, this was your little _coming out_ party?” he scoffed at the notion.

“Yes.”

“O-Oh...” he stammered, “I always wondered, but I never thought it appropriate to ask.”

“I think you knew before I did,” he chuckled, “I could have devoured you at breakfast this morning... or that moment before we left the mansion... but I had a plan and I wanted to see it through.”

“Wait... you planned this?”

“Are you mad?” Edward bit his lip.

“No... just... confused” he furrowed his brow in thought, “Zsasz knew?”

“Zsasz knew,” Ed smiled. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of Oswald's ear, “I'm also the one who broke the locks.”

He pulled away, utterly satisfied with himself.

“You!” Oswald playfully slapped at his chest.

Edward pulled his phone out of a hidden compartment under his seat, “I also didn't leave my phone at the museum. Would you like to call Victor, or should I?”

Oswald rolled his eyes, “I love you.”

Edward stared, “Say that again, Please.”

Oswald took the phone and kissed him, “I love you, Edward Nygma,” he looked at the phone in his hand and rolled his eyes, “Now can we get the hell out of this damn car?”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride Month!!!


End file.
